


In a Time or Place

by Rib



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Lots of it, and happily married babes, but sometimes fluff, like wow, sometimes other characters have serious roles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7384930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rib/pseuds/Rib
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of chapters existing in a reality where Tracer does not age as intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2071 - Five Years Future

**Author's Note:**

> Will update sporadically and out of chronological order, but will all focus on Lena coming to terms with her situation and how Widowmaker evolves with her. Chapters will be titled by the year the drabble takes place from the present 2066 and will be mostly angst and self-indulgent Widowtracer.

The first time she noticed Lena pulling at her skin in the mirror the younger woman jumped and spun around in a panic.

"Something the matter, Cherie?" Amélie leaned against the doorway of their bathroom with concern etched across her features.

"Crackers you scared the life outta me." She gripped her chest as the blue light under her tank flickered. "No, nothin' at all, love. Just makin' faces you know how it is." Her mouth half committed to the smile slowly increasing in intensity to sell the lie.

"Lena..." She could practically hear the girl’s heart beating.

Tracer stepped forward and held her girlfriends face softly in her hands gently placing a kiss on Amélie's bottom lip. "You worry too much about me. I'm alright really." Her eyes held a silent plea 'not now, I'm not ready'.

Amélie obliged and wrapped her arms tightly around the smaller woman, resting her chin against Lena's head breathing out her objections against a mess of brown locks. "You will be the death of me, Mon Amour."

\--

The second time, Lena was caught pulling at her hair searching for something in that same mirror.

Amélie chuckled and stepped in behind the shorter woman. "Looking for Grey hairs, Lena?"

"No!" The loud sound caused both of them to go rigid. "I'm sorry I hadn't meant it to come out that way." She turned around and wrapped lithe fingers around her left bicep.

Amélie's neat eyebrows sunk. "Lena, please. Tell me what is bothering you. This is the second time I've caught you looking at yourself as if through a microscope."

The younger girl bit her lip and rested a hand on her coronal accelerator. A loud sigh escaped her lips and a soft smile took its place. "Alright love, but not here." Lena took Amélie's hand and sat them both on the bed they shared. "The truth is... I might..." she ducked her head and closed her eyes "not be aging."

A long silence filled the room and Lena forced her eyes open to see that Amélie was turning something over in her mind.

"I'm sure you've seen pictures of me from when Overwatch started right? That was years and years ago, but physically I haven't changed." She started to subconsciously rub at her shirt where the accelerator hummed softly. "Winston suggested I might have some side effects from the accelerator, but this is all new and no one really knows."

Amélie rested a hand on top of Tracers.

"It's meant to hold me in time but the truth is I might not even exist." Her eyes started to sting. "I might just be a copy of the original Lena... A ghost trapped in a reality or time I don't belong to." A single tear burned its way down the gentle slope of her nose and Amelie caught it on her thumb, brushing the area dry.

"Lena you've been shouldering all this pain on your own?"

The girl beside her gave a weak nod.

"Why have you not told me?”

"I didn't want to worry you about something that might not even happen."

The taller woman pulled Tracer against her chest and rocked slowly, pressing her lips to the top of Lena's head. "You are not a ghost, Cherie or I would not be able to hold you so."

"What if I'm not the real Lena? What if I never live a full life because I'm trapped in time? What if this isn't a permanent solution?"

"Life is not permanent. We know this more than anyone. The truth is I spend every day of my life worried for you, and a death is a death no matter the method."

"That's not comforting, Love."

"That being said, if you stopped existing it would be no different to me than if you had been killed in a battle." Amélie closed her eyes and squeezed the smaller woman tighter. "I would be devastated, and that is how I know you are real. You are Lena regardless of how you exist in this world."

Lena tried her best not to choke up but the overwhelming feeling finally got to her and she broke down.

"We will figure it out together, Mon Amour. And if I am old and parts of me are not so spry while you are as beautiful as I have always know you to be, I will still hold you close and remind you that you are loved. Forever and always, no matter when."


	2. 2073 – Seven Years Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter hints at something akin to suicide, while not the same, the warning is there regardless.

“Amélie?” Tracer slowly shook her head back and forth to brush the underside of her wife’s jaw with her hair. It was a slow day and the two decided it would be best spent laying together in front of their bedroom window.

Without putting her book down, Amélie kissed the top of Lena’s head, using her arm resting against the girl’s chest to pull her closer against herself. “Oui.”

“Can I ask you a serious question?” Tracer did not move but felt Amelie’s heart speed up a bit from beneath her.

“Oui.”

“Do you think…” Tracer closed her eyes and took a shallow breath. “Never mind.”

Amélie dropped her book hand and shifted sideways enough to look down at the girl. “Non, none of that, please continue.”

Tracer sighed and looked off towards the window. “Do you think it would be selfish of me to reset?”

The taller woman shot up and pulled Tracer around to face her. “Lena where are these thoughts coming from? Are you depressed? We can go see a doctor, it’s a very normal thing we-“

“Amélie.” Tracer brought a hand up to cup the side of her wife’s face. “I don’t mean now, I just meant, I don’t know some time in the future after you’re…” she swallowed a lump threatening to suffocate her, “you know, not… around?”

“When am I ever going to not be around, Cherie? I have remained with you for all these years you cannot chase me off now.” Amélie let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s just, the thought of me going on about life as usual, like this” she paused and gestured at herself, “without you, terrifies me.”

“Lena, you mean after I’ve passed on? You think of resetting?”

The younger woman nodded.

Amélie stood up from the bed and let Tracer drop flat on its surface standing with her back to the girl. “Why would you ask me such a thing?”

Tracer sat up and held a hand out as if to touch her, but dropped it ever so slowly. Her voice came out barely above a whisper, “I don’t know if I can live without you, love. Is that selfish?”

Lena thought she had her answer when Amélie turned around revealing a line of water trailing down her cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Lena closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry I know it’s a dumb question, of course it’s selfish I just-“

“Lena.” Amélie wiped her eye with a single thumb. “Is it selfish of me to want you to live an eternity without me? To want you to go every day of your life just honoring my memory? To not want you to move on with someone new?” The tears started back up again. “To be plagued with the thought of eternal life without the person you love. I would not blame you.”

Lena stood up and embraced her. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, Love.” She squeezed tighter. “It’s not selfish of you at all.”

“Then who is right here, Cherie.”

Neither of them moved, afraid the next gesture would cause one of them to shatter to pieces. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

The taller woman moved her hand to Lena’s chin and lifted it slowly so their eyes would meet. “How long have you been plagued with these nightmares, Mon Amour?”

Lena made a small smile as she thought of the memory. “The first time I realized I loved you.” She let out a sound like a cross between a hiccup and a laugh. “I’m such a romantic right? The first thought after realizing it is: ‘god it’s going to devastate me when she d…” the girl choked, “isn’t around anymore.’ “

Amélie sighed and returned back to hugging Lena against her chest. “You know, after you brought me back from Talon I had thoughts like this frequently.”

Lena barely heard her above the heartbeat thrumming against her ear.

“I thought my life was over, I thought eventually you would get tired of me and I would be left with nothing. I thought I had no home, no hope.” A deep breath. “It took me a long time to finally feel comfortable enough to find worth in myself and strength with you.”

“Why’ve you never told me this?”

“Because I thought it would be selfish of me to worry you with such thoughts. I am sorry that it took me so long to tell you.”

“It’s ok,” Lena whispered.

“Cherie, if you truly wish to reset someday after I am gone, that will be for you to decide. I promise I will not think ill of you for whatever you choose.”

“Really?”

“I am not the one who must live with the thought of losing you, thankfully, and for that I am truly selfish.”

“Amélie…”

“Come, let us not dwell on this any longer, today is a day for us. We will have many years yet to make a decision together. Would you like me to make you some tea?” Amélie pulled back with an unsure smile and headed out the door to the kitchen.

Lena looked down at her accelerator in despondency praying that tea might settle the storm in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reset Tracer refers to is reversing herself so far she no longer has any memories of the two of them together.


	3. 2066- Present Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

Absolutely seething with rage and nervously flickering around the old base, Tracer was littering every curse word she knew against the rusting lockers and chipped painted walls as Winston watched her blur in and out of sight.

“Lena, you’re using too much energy, you need to sit still.”

“Sit still ‘e says!” Lena stopped and shouted for the briefest of seconds before zipping off again.

“Lena.” Winston huffed with a little more authority.

Soldier 76 said nothing, looking asleep with his legs propped half hazardously against one of Winston’s many offline keyboards. “It’s no use, Big Guy. Let her do what she has to do. I’m none too happy about it either.”

“That’s easy for you to say. That accelerator is fragile, and you’re not the one who has to maintain it!” He reached for a hidden jar of peanut butter under the desk- definitely **not** stress eating.

Soldier simply shrugged as a loud, “Bellend” echoed off a far hallway. He sat up, setting both feet on the ground and resting his hands on his knees. “Let the girl do what she has to do, if it keeps her from making mistakes when we push the payload then it’s worth whatever parts you have to replace.”

“It’s not just the accelerator it’s the fact that she’s-“ just then Mercy walked through the door against the far wall, her hand full of a large part of Lena’s jacket, dragging the girl into the room easily.

“Are we all just about ready?” A polite smile adorned the blonde’s mouth as Soldier and Winston stood at attention before her.

Soldier was the first to address her. “Just about, we’re still waiting for Pharah to finish putting on her suit.”

“Good.” Mercy released her hold on Tracers jacket. “Now Lena, please tell me why you’re running around the base making all this noise.”

“That looney is out there somewhere just waitin’ ta kill one of us.”

Mercy turned with an inquisitive expression towards the others.

Winston smiled awkwardly and used his computer to bring up images from street cameras around the area where a very Widowmaker-esque person was caught weaving through the busy streets.

“She is here?” Mercy stepped forward and squinted at the screen.

“Yeah she’s here and she’s probably settin’ up now somewhere waitin’ for one of us to step into ‘er sights.” Lena pulled on her jacket straightening it out. “I’m not about to go out there and risk comin’ to a sticky end.”

Mercy crossed her arms and shook her head. “Lena is right, we can’t risk pushing a payload with a sniper hiding somewhere in the shadows. Pharah is a huge target at the very least!”

Soldier brought a hand across his body from his left shoulder to his right waist, slicing the air with the motion. “We don’t have a choice, that payload needs to be delivered.”

Pharah entered the room, helmet resting against her hip. “It will be fine, Ya Amar. I am not a rookie after all.”

“There is no reason to tempt fate like this!” Mercy turned back to Winston. “Do we at least know where she is?”

He scratched his head and closed the lid on his half eaten jar. “Well we can’t know for sure, but I can isolate buildings she’s most likely to choose with proper vantage points along our route,” he turned back to the computer quickly typing away, “and then redraw a path that avoids long sight lines.” The room was filled with more furious typing. “The only issue is that it brings us dangerously close to civilian occupied areas.”

Mercy rested a hand against her forehead while Soldier stepped forward to study the new route. “It will have to do. Pharah will have a good view from the sky, she can warn us of any civvies that get too close.” He turned back to Tracer. “Would you be comfortable watching for sniper fire? You know her better than anyone here, I’d trust you to watch our backs.”

Lena’s face dropped. “I don’t think anyone should trust me after what ‘appened to Mondatta.”

Mercy stepped forward and took her hand, squeezing it lightly. “Lena don’t put that kind of pressure on yourself, what happened was out of your control, it was you or him.”

 “It should have been me.”

Soldier moved till he was within arm’s reach of the two women. “This new route is going to take twice as long, Lena I’m going to need you to step up and handle this.” He put his hand on her head and rustled her brown locks, softening his tone as best as his mask would allow. “I know you can do it.”

Lena smiled unenthusiastically and gave a weak salute before dropping her shoulders.

“Alright everyone, let’s move out.” Soldier picked up his riffle and headed towards the door, the remaining five trailing not far behind.

\--

Tracer zipped through the empty side streets flanking their route like a madwoman. Her panic sent her blurring through alleys and over idle cars, trying to clear the path as efficiently as possible. She could feel her heart working in overdrive and the louder than usual hum coming from her accelerator matched the pounding in her ears.

“Find Widow. Find Widow. Find Widow.”

She repeated this mantra a thousand times before the soft glint of a scope tickled her peripheral vision. Tracer’s heart skipped a beat, but she continued onwards acting as if she’d seen nothing, slowly circling behind the tower out of sight.

“I’ve got ‘er, you guys should push easily, I’m on it.” She shouted into the communicator as she approached.

“Rodger that,” Soldier replied.

A garbled voice came through after, warning her: “Lena be careful.” The girl smiled thinking how Mercy must look, face painted in concern and glowing in an unearthly radiance.

“I’ve got the jump on ‘er this time.” Tracer’s confidence returned full swing, knowing Widowmaker wasn’t expecting the route change.

She smashed the lock to the fire stairs and circled her way up to the roof in speeds that left her dizzy. The top door shook open and closed in the wind, and Tracer pushed on it softly, heart still beating with ferocity. The sight that met her made her stomach drop to the deepest pits of hell. There at the edge of the roof lay a small piece of glass propped up against a mirror, its sharp glint reflecting against the brown of her eyes.

She turned around, feeling the weight of the universe spinning her in a suffocating circle. Tracer fell to her knees, palms against the roof as she struggled to breathe. Of course it had been too easy, of course she’d lay a trap. How could she be so stupid?

Her coms crackled to life. “Tracer we’re taking fire, fall back.” The sounds of gunfire echoed in the background.

There was no falling back, her legs were jelly. Then she heard it- a crack of thunder rang through the city followed by a roar that shook her bones.

“Winston!” She cried out and jumped off the lip of the building, running down the side of the glass façade. Tracer’s body could feel the residual shockwaves of the riffle shot that still bounced around in her eardrum. Shot after shot, she pushed harder and faster than ever before, racing against each impossible miss.

Nearing the battle site Tracers lips curved into a horrific grin, this time there was no mistaking the prone form in the open face of a construction building.

She blink-jumped between floors stopping at her target and set off in a trail of blue, knocking the prone body off the side of the building, and rattling the widow’s kiss across the floor. The assassin grappled back up and rolled across the gap to her weapon, pausing in a crouch, riffle aimed at Tracer.

“I’ve no quarrel with you, _Moustique_.”

“Like I give a salty rat’s arse what you’ve got a ‘quarrel’ with.” Tracer blinked forward and sucker punched Widowmaker so hard that her soul vibrated. The taller woman flew across the floor bouncing a few times for good measure, body stiffly forcing itself back up.

“Faire attention, Cherie!”

Tracer registered the fight still going on beneath them. “No, you pay attention to me.” She stepped forward, guns aimed directly at Widowmaker. “If I find a single one of my mates dead, I will piss on your corpse.”

“You do not have the guts to kill me.”

“After King’s Row I’m definitely considerin’ it.”

Widowmaker’s eyes flickered downwards towards the fight and her trigger finger twitched. “I do not have time for this.” She stood and pushed tracer out of the way, bringing the scope to her eye and pulled the trigger as Tracer tackled her to the ground. The bullet ricocheted off a building adjacent to them and the assassin screamed in frustration. “Imbécile!” She drew her legs to her chest and kicked Tracer back resting her knees on either side of the young girl’s body when she hit the ground and roughly grabbing the girl’s jacket front. “If you get in my way again I will kill your friends.”

Tracer’s hands both gripped the arm holding on to her as she expelled all the air from her lungs in a shout. “As opposed to what you’re currently doing?”

“Why do you not listen to me?”

“I don’t know? Maybe ‘cause you’re fuckin’ a psycho?”

Widowmaker slammed Tracer backwards onto the ground with the hand still latched onto her jacket, stood up, and dragged the girl with her to the ledge of the building. “Regarde!” She held the shorter woman out and forced her eyes to the scene before them.

Everyone was still pushing the payload miraculously. Tracer noticed a few bodies lying near the scuffle that had clearly taken large caliber rounds to the face. “You aren’t killin’ my team?”

“I want this payload to succeed as much as you. I am helping it along.” She finally released her grip on Tracer’s jacket.

The girl snapped back to the action “Wait, Omnics?” She bit her bottom lip. “Then it’s not Talon we’re fightin’?” Milky white blood was painted across the sides of buildings and collected in pools around scrapped hunks of metal. A group of terrorist fighters? “Then what does Talon want with this payload?”

“It is not your concern.” Widowmaker raised the riffle to her shoulder and stood there challengingly. “So; will you fight me?”

How could she be expected to make a decision so important that it would change the path of her life? Tracer stared blankly at her friends down below, slowly pushing forward in spite of everything. There was no reason to trust this woman- why did she want to so badly?

Her heart thumped hard. “It is time for a decision.”

Lena turned and looked Widowmaker straight in the eyes, the left one swollen and already painting the skin a dark shade of purple from where her knuckles had kissed it.

An electric chill ran up her spine.

“Leave.” It came out as a hoarse whisper.

Widowmaker smirked, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Bonne Fille.” She reached a hand out and traced a line down Tracers jaw with a well-manicured finger. “But if the payload does not reach its destination, I will kill you.” With that she walked off the edge of the concrete floor and grappled to the nearest building, taking her leave.

Tracer quickly let out the breath she was holding, closing her eyes as her chest retracted. A second to gather herself, and she blinked to the payload, taking down an enemy that was setting up a turret.

Soldier looked up at her in silence, clearly not voicing something in his head. “Did you take care of it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good Girl.” A flash of purple clouded her vision. “Now let’s really push this thing.”

Lena hesitated as he launched a helix rocket across the street and ran after its trail. She’d have to perform as well as always, but for the first time ever her heart just wasn’t in it.


	4. 2069- Three Years Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena's got a shot.

She took a brief side glance from her scope and looked at the girl. Lena had a bit of dirt on her chin and some soft grass stains on her jacket. There was also this really dopey smile creeping at the corner of her lips as her eyes met the corner of Amélie's.

"Whatcha think love? Six-twenty-one meters and..." Lena pulled the binoculars back to her face, "maybe a 38 centimeter incline?"

Amélie took a breath, she could feel her heart thump against the ground beneath her while turning back to her sights.

"Wind at say a steady thirteen knots- south by south-west."

The breath she held slowly came out as her finger tugged the trigger.

A shot rang out amongst the forest before them, and in the distance a clay pigeon shattered to dust as Tracer jumped straight up from the ground and ripped off her safety headphones. "No flippin' way you made that shot!"

Amélie raised her torso up away from the riffle and looked at Tracer with the biggest shit-eating-grin. "Dinner is on you tonight."

Lena moaned in defeat. "Unbelievable."

"And don't think I didn't miss that wind call- thirteen knots you little liar, it was easily seventeen."

Tracer looked down at her with a sly smile. "Can't blame a girl for trying."

Amélie rolled onto her back before the still bipod resting riffle and grabbed the front of Tracer’s jacket pulling the lithe girl on top of her.

Lena squeaked as she fell and slowly opened her eyes to look at the woman below her. Soft strands of hair so black it shimmered purple in the sunlight, pieces of grass brushing the small hairs on her cheek; a small frog caught in Lena's throat at the sight. She pulled off her girlfriend's headphones and laid them on the ground beside them. "You're beautiful."

Amélie's face lit up. "This is your attempt to get your dinner after all, non?" The older woman reached up and brushed a lock of golden brown hair out of Lena's face. "Well if you keep it up you may have dinner," she paused and reached a hand around the back of Tracer's head, pulling them close, "and desert."

Lena's upper torso sprung up, feeling her face heat up at the thought. Her hands wound themselves in the grass besides Amélie's head. They spent a long time just gazing into each other's eyes before the smaller girl slowly lowered herself to a hairs breadth from the others lips.

"Life with you is one giant sundae, Love."

Amélie's eyes flickered before she smashed her lips against Tracer’s and ran both of her hands through the girl’s short hair. They desperately clung to each other, barely pulling back for air as the two sloppily rubbed their faces together in a desperate kiss.

Lena pulled back up slightly dizzy and hot. "Gee, Love, target practice really gets you goin' don't it? We should do this more often."

Amélie leaned forward and placed a long gentle kiss against Lena’s mouth, adding a few smaller ones as she pulled away. "That is not the only thing, Cherie."

Tracer thought she heard a hint of seduction on that last word, gasping as a slender hand roughly grabbed her ass.

She stood up quickly, brushing herself off in spastic swipes. "Well I think this was a successful trip, you still have great aim."

"Your aim is not so bad either."

Tracer ignored that last wink. "So! Ready for dinner?"

"It is much too early, Mon Amour. The sun has not even set yet, nor will she for a good few hours. Come, I will teach you." She patted the soft earth next to her.

Tracer blew out a puff of air that made her lips vibrate in a loud raspberry. "As if I don't know how ta’ shoot. Nothin' to it."

"Oh?" The older woman's right eyebrow shot up in contest. "Then perhaps you would surprise me by easily hitting the pigeon at one hundred meters? It will be child's play for you."

Tracer looked off into the distance and squinted; she could hardly see the damn thing. Fuck.

"Push over I'll show you how it's done."

Amélie hardly gave her any space to lay behind the long gun. The two were wedged up against each other as Lena struggled to find a comfortable spot that allowed her to rest the butt of the riffle against her shoulder.

"Could you be any more in the way?"

As if by magic the taller woman did just that, rolling her pelvis to slightly rest on Lena's hip.

"I doubt this is proper form."

"Perhaps not for shooting..."

Lena rolled her eyes and roughly threw her headphones on watching as her partner did the same.

"These are the same conditions as before, but at this distance they hardly matter," Lena heard through her headphones.

"I know that," she grumbled.

Tracer leaned into the scope, resting her eye just a small distance off the edge of it and focused her vision. She could see the clay pigeon easily against the brown backdrop and rested her crosshairs right on the center.

“Too easy.” She made to put a finger on the trigger when she felt the tip of a digit glide down the top of her spine. It caused a ripple effect as the soft white hairs on her back stood up along the contact point all the way up to her neck.

She whipped her head to the side and came face to face with the offender.

“You’re cheatin’.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Cherie.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She turned back to the scope. “Cut that out unless you plan to follow through.”

She felt the older woman settle back down and wait patiently as she lined up the shot again.

Tracer took a deep breath and willed her heart to stop pounding, when she had control, she squeezed the trigger and let off a bang that vibrated against her entire body. Her eyes closed briefly at the shock, and she felt the top of her hair ruffled against the hand that was just moments ago on her lower back.

“Nice shot.”

The girl looked over the top of the scope and saw the pigeon was no more and soon a huge smile worked its way over the edges of her mouth. “I did it!”

She shot up and pumped her fist into the air.

“I told you I could!”

Amélie rolled half onto her back, resting her weight on her elbow, a smile matching Lena’s on her features. The smell of hot metal still filling her nostrils as she gazed up at the standing woman. “You were right, congratulations.”

“Damn right I was.” Lena kneeled down and straddled her girlfriend. “Now about that dinner.”

Amélie let out a soft laugh and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss against Lena’s forehead. “Of course, my treat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A clay pigeon is usually an orange disc used in riffle sports. When a bullet hits it, the disc shatters into dust, as proof it made contact.
> 
> They're also wearing headphones to prevent hearing loss because the riffle used is meant for extremely long distance and has a high caliber round that would blow your eardrum without it.


	5. 2067- One Year Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatcha looking at?

Lena noticed out of the corner of her eye, the woman across from her was now looking in her direction. Widowmaker said nothing, she just stared at the girl unblinking from the bed in that small hospital room.

“Heya.” Tracer smiled and turned back to the phone app she was playing with.

“Why are you here?”

Lena looked back up again, smiling even wider. “Thought ya might like some company, Love.”

Widowmaker only stared back, seemingly processing everything.

Lena tapped some more buttons on her phone as silence engulfed the room. This was normal routine lately, she’d stop by whenever Angela let her and sat in the single plush chair in the corner of the room. The fresh lilies she brought every morning shimmered brilliantly in the light of the east wall window from their place on the side table.

The young girl was extremely grateful to have the opportunity to do this, even if it was somewhat emotionally draining to sit in a room with someone who was essentially a robot. Well… she thought of her companions, maybe that’s offensive to Genji and Zenyatta?

Every night that passed, Mercy would stop by outside the room and look in the open door, frowning slightly at Tracer curled up asleep in the armchair while Widowmaker looked blankly at the wall in front of her. The first few nights Mercy ran in horrified and checked her pulse, refusing to let the girl remain and locking the door to the room with a security code. She eventually became more lax overtime considering how often it happened, but still warned Lena against dropping her guard so easily.

Often times Lena woke with a start in the morning, either from a bad dream or when her back finally started getting upset with her awkward position. She’d stand and stretch, and Widowmaker would still be there just staring as always at nothing. It was starting to worry her.

Today however was turning out to be an anomaly.

“What are your plans with me?”

Tracer’s brain restarted. “Plans?”

“Yes. What will Overwatch do with me now that I am in their possession?”

Lena’s forehead creased in confusion. “You’re no one’s possession, Love. You’re free to do as you please once we get the all clear, so long as you don’t go back to Talon or nothin’.”

Widowmaker frowned. “Free?”

“Aye.”

The taller woman went back to staring ahead of herself, gripping the bedsheets beneath her hands. “Nothing in this world is free.”

Lena sighed and turned her phone off, putting it in her pocket and leaning forward on her elbows. “Widowmaker…” her mouth cocked to one side.

“Do you think you are free?”

Tracer laughed. “Of course I’m free.”

“You say that as you sit in this room day after day and monitor me?” Her voice grew louder as the sentence went on.

“Hey,” Lena drew her attention back, “no one is making me do anything. I’m here because I want to be alright?” She slouched down in her chair and crossed her arms. “Besides, maybe you’re not the only one who wants company.”

Widowmaker scoffed. “It is hard to believe that you cannot find better company.”

“Don’t want it.”

The older woman frowned in confusion and looked down at her hands. They were a bit more pink than usual, the blue was still there, but it slowly crept back to her natural color over the course of a few weeks. “Why would Overwatch take me for no gain?”

“Well… the motivation is probably in a lot of cases for selfish reasons. Many people blame themselves for what happened, maybe it’s their way of clearing their conscience.” Tracer put her face in her hands and closed her eyes. “Maybe even some of us are hoping you’ll go back to who you were.”

“You mean who I was before Talon?”

“Yes.”

Widowmaker gripped so hard at her sheets that she felt her knuckles tingle. A small fire started in the pit of her stomach and slowly spread through her chest. “So you can all morally absolve yourselves of an inconvenience?”

“It’s not like that!”

“Conneries ce n'est pas comme ça!” Widowmaker’s upper lip trembled as if her next question would break her. “Do _you_ want me to go back to who I was?”

Tracer’s mouth fell open in shock. Her head shook back and forth as she stumbled to find an appropriate answer. “I don’t know what I want.”

The taller woman’s nostrils flared. “So what difference does it make then, if Talon owns me, or if Overwatch owns me? I am just a thing passed around to feed everyone’s own egos no?”

Tracer stood up, hands awkwardly fidgeting at her side. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

“Then what is it? What will happen if I do not go back to being this woman? Will you toss me out?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Widowmaker slammed a closed fist into the bed and started shouting. “What if I am never anything more than Widowmaker? Will you still be here when they point a gun at me?”

Tracer’s eyes reflected the light in the room a little more brightly than usual, the whites gaining a little more color, as a familiar sting made them squeeze shut. “No more violence.” She sat back down, afraid to open her eyes. “I will not fight you anymore.”

“You are a fool.” The older woman looked towards the door away from Lena.

“Yeah. That’s what most people think.” She opened her eyes, willing the tears back. “I’m a little impulsive, a little clumsy, a little stubborn, and too trusting, but I’m human.” She smiled softly. “And you’re human.”

Widowmaker turned back to the girl, her eyes narrowing.

“So as long as you’re human I’m going to try to help you.” Lena smiled. “Because that’s what I do.”

There was a long silence until Widowmaker’s eyebrows came together. “Tracer.”

“Yeah?” She rubbed her eyes with the tips of her fingers.

“You are still an annoyance.”

The younger girl’s face relaxed as her vision unfocused. “Happy to be so, Love.”


	6. 2067- One Year Future Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not trapped in here with you, you're trapped in here with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting this chapter and going into the next chapter the rating goes up to Mature. Nothing will ever be explicit, but there are some sexual scenarios now and in the future.

Mercy watched the milk swirl tight circles around the vortex left by the spoon in her morning coffee. The heat from the mug was just bearable enough to allow her hands to rest on either side as Tracer fumbled around in the kitchen of the small staff room, making as much commotion as possible.

“Lena don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll get it later.”

The younger girl set her mug down a little too roughly and a bit of her tea splashed out and caught the inside of her wrist. “Oh piss!” She wrapped her mouth around the burn and sucked lightly, turning around mug in hand and sat quickly in front of her companion, still refusing to move her appendage from her lips.

“You should go home, Lena. You are far too stressed here.”

“Stressed ain’t the half of it. She’s drivin’ me right bonkers, she is.”

Mercy lifted a hand and used it to prop her head up as she looked towards the closed door. It was no use arguing, Lena could be the most stubborn person she knew. “You’re a mess.”

“No shite.”

“Then why do you continue to put yourself through this? You owe her nothing.”

Tracer rested a hand on the back of her neck and quickly brushed the hairs there while her lungs took in a huge breath of air. “Look, she’s just trying to figure herself out. I can’t blame her for being like this, how would you feel if ya didn’t have feelings for so many years and then all of a sudden you felt everything at once?”

Mercy drew her lips to one side in thought. “Maybe we should consider mood stabilizers?”

“No. Let her work through it, she’ll get it eventually.” Tracer tapped the surface of their table with one finger, completely forgetting her tea.

The door to the room opened and in walked the source of their conversation. Widowmaker paused, her hand still on the wooden frame, and looked at both women. “Good morning.”

Angela smiled politely. “Guttentag.”

“Mornin’.” Tracer dropped the room into awkward silence.

No one said a thing as Widowmaker quickly got a mug from the cabinet and poured herself her own cup before turning for the door and leaving.

“Well that was rather uneventful.” Mercy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Are you scared of her?”

“Of course I am.”

Lena frowned.

“Look, we’ve been through this before, Lena.” Angela lifted her cup to her lips and breathed into it, taking a second to bask in the warm smell that met her nose. “God forbid what happened to Gerard…”

Tracer stood up, abandoning her cup and made for the door.

“Lena, wait.”

She turned around and gave Angela a determined stare before leaving without another word and following Widowmaker back to her room.

They were currently holed up in one of Overwatch’s smaller bases. When it was a hub of activity it had been a med station for wounded heroes considering its proximity to one of their closer war zones. Now it sat abandoned and unmanned except for the skeleton crew that occasionally roamed the halls. Mercy and Tracer were using it as a rehabilitation nest for Widowmaker, now that she was free from her hospital bed and given a spare room of her own to occupy.

Mercy refused to let her have access to the majority of areas on base, arguing that the taller woman’s attitude was not stable enough for them to get an accurate idea whether the treatment had been effective. Although she could not argue the woman was certainly different.

Tracer quickly marched down the hallway to Widowmaker’s room and stopped before the door, freezing briefly before building up the courage to knock on the steel barrier. The door opened before her fist even made contact and she awkwardly stood there with her hand up.

The two stared at each other for a long time before Tracer coughed and threw a smile on her face. “How ya doin’ today, Love?”

Widowmaker said nothing, simply staring with her coffee mug still delicately gripped in her hand.

“Right so uh, was thinkin’ ‘bout poppin’ a film in, maybe you’d want to kill some time watchin’-“

“What do you want?”

“A Movie…?”

Widowmaker stepped aside, opening the door to her room while rolling her eyes.

Tracer stood there unsure whether it was a good idea to enter. She pointed down the hall in the opposite direction. “Uh, rec room is that way.” The door started to swiftly close in her face, but she wedged her foot in at the last second. “Alright ya got me.” She lightly pushed and the door met no resistance as it swung all the way inwards.

The taller woman had already sat on a couch at the far side of the room, her coffee resting on the short table before her.

“You up for a chat then?”

Tracer stepped a few feet in and closed the door behind her. Turning back only to see Widowmaker quickly walking towards her, hand up instantly colliding with Lena’s neck, pushing her into the metal door with a hollow thud. “You are full of bad decisions, Cherie.”

“Careful, Love. That stirs more than just my lungs.” Tracer’s eyes squinted shut as the pressure on her neck became a little more than uncomfortable.

“You are lucky that I am not interested in killing you.” The grip on Lena’s neck released and she instinctively brought both hands up to touch the sensitive skin. “I am also not interested in being your science experiment; so if you would kindly leave me alone.”

“That’s a little hard all things considered.”

Widowmaker eyed her dangerously.

“What with you bein’ stuck here and all. Just formality mostly, but you can’t argue that you’re not a tad disagreeable.”

Lena’s companion smiled wickedly. “Foolish but brave.”

Tracer stepped forward a bit as Widowmaker circled around her, blocking the door.

“And what do you get from this? Is your job not done?”

“Don’t know whatcha mean, Love.” She backed up a little further as the taller woman crept forward, pushing her till Lena’s legs met the edge of the coffee table.

Widowmaker slowly lifted a hand and pulled gently on the collar of Tracer’s jacket, seemingly inspecting the material. Then her eyes flickered up and met brown orbs, the pupils dilating slightly. A soft laugh was the last thing Lena heard before soft lips collided with her own, and her eyes shot open in surprise, unable to move, unable to reason.

It surprised her how gentle it was, how desperate it felt. Tracer could only imagine what was going through the other woman’s mind. Was she that lonely?

The kiss broke, Tracer still frozen where she started, having contributed nothing to act and still in shock. She realized her elbows were bent at her waist, her hands up in front of her as if to say ‘I didn’t touch anything’.

Her eyes shifted back and forth between Widowmaker’s own, afraid to move a single inch. Would she lash out in anger? Would she break down?

The irises flickered in a way Tracer had seen far too many times- the telltale sign of dangerous amusement. She made to sidestep the woman, and head for the door, but was grabbed by the elbow and pinned to a nearby wall.

“Hey, wait a second. This isn’t a good idea, Love. You’re not in your right mind.”

Widowmaker looked down at her, eyes almost completely engulfed in blackness. “You’re right, I’m not.”

Tracer had those soft lips on her again, pulsing roughly against her neck and jaw. Her eyes shut, head thrust back into the wall, hands gripping wildly at the hair behind Widowmaker’s head. “Fuck.”

Lena tugged roughly as a particularly soft spot on her collar met a meticulous tongue.

“We’re both bloody insane.”

The mouth on her throat paused and formed a delicate smile before teeth bit down hard on the skin there.

“ _Fuck_ me.” It wasn’t meant as a request, but the woman pressed against her grabbed Tracer beneath the thighs and lifted her higher up the wall, pinned pelvis to pelvis against the cold surface.

Their mouths met this time, both roughly locked together, tongues added to the mix as a warm hand trailed up the front of Tracers shirt and brushed at her ribs. Maybe they were both a little lonely.  

“Wait.”

Widowmaker paused, giving Tracer a chance to catch her breath.

“What the bloody hell are we doing?”

“I think that much is obvious.”

Tracer could feel the other woman’s stomach moving in respiration against her crotch, and the pressure was driving her off the deep end. She tapped Widow’s shoulder and was let down to the floor before she ran a quick hand through her messy hair. The taller woman stepped back, waiting for Tracer’s next move.

“Look, this ain’t right. I’m completely taking advantage of you.”

Widowmaker smirked. “I think you are confused as to who had who on that wall.”

Lena blushed all the way to the tips of her ears. She shifted slightly and felt an uncomfortable wetness cling to the inside of her thighs. “Let’s just… take things slow ok? You’re still recovering and I don’t know what the piss I’m doing.” She backed up towards the door, fidgeting as Widowmaker watched her leave with a predatory look in her eyes. “Next time let’s just-” She bumped into the door and it startled her.

Then she was out like a flash and rushing down the hallway back the opposite direction, face still absolutely painted in red. She passed Mercy on the way to her room, getting an odd stare but thanking god silently that she would be alone for the next twenty years if she wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops


	7. 2067- One Year Future Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get resolved... sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some reservations about the content in this chapter because of certain implications, but shipping these two comes with a grain of salt anyway. The rating is a well earned Mature, if that's not your style skip this chapter entirely. It's the last in the set of rehabilitation so the next chapter will be another time skip.

Tracer isn’t sure what they are; her mind is currently floating beyond the grasp of labels. Since the incident in Widowmaker’s room a few weeks ago, she’s been doing her best to avoid being alone with the woman. It was completely counterproductive to her objective, which oddly enough was rather fuzzy at this point.

She let out a soft gasp as a pair of sharp hips ground into her backside. Thank god Mercy was asleep. Widowmaker had her currently pinned to the staff room table, and was slowly dry humping her against it. Lena never let it get this far, but the taller woman took her by surprise at two in the morning as she wandered around the base trying to avoid going back to sleep.

On the one hand she was no longer tired, on the other hand was her crotch, which was very slowly being stroked in maddeningly light touches. Lena wanted to complain about both the unprofessional situation, and the pressure that was not hard enough.

Widowmaker brushed against the back of Lena’s neck with her lips and smiled against the sensitive skin. She did not increase pressure though, trailing her mouth to the side of Lena’s head and gently tugging the girl’s ear between her teeth.

Lena let out a small growl and thrust forward, making sharp contact with the pair of fingers stroking against her thin pants. “Now, now, Cherie don’t be so impatient. You have avoided me for weeks, obviously you’re in no rush to seek satisfaction.” Tracer’s eyebrows danced dangerously low to her eyes.

“For good reason too.”

“Oh?” Widowmaker used her other hand to brush under the girl’s shirt and skim feather touches up her tight abdomen. “And what reason would that be?”

Lena swallowed a hard lump in her throat and held her breath as the hand skirted along the underside of her breast. Not sure if she should risk making any sort of sounds, she took a deep breath and managed to form a coherent sentence, “oh, I dunno maybe ‘cause you’re still recoverin’, and we used to be mortal enemies, and Mercy would throttle me?”

“I am perfectly fine, as you can see.” Then she brushed her finger along Lena’s nipple eliciting a sharp squeak.

It would be hard to argue that the woman had not made some tremendous improvement over the past few weeks. They had amicable conversations around Mercy, and even discovered some shared common interests which greatly surprised them both; so it was no surprise that their public friendship had continued to blossom. The main issue being that Tracer continued to feel like prey when alone; the sidelong glances, the sly winks, and one time she was pretty sure Widowmaker brushed against her arse very seductively as she tried fitting by the girl in a very wide hallway.

Lena wondered if the woman’s actions were a side effect of her balancing out, but she was too embarrassed to voice the thoughts to Angela, and maybe a small part of her really didn’t mind.

The hand at her breast was now roughly massaging it. Okay, a large part didn’t mind.

“Do you still consider us enemies? Is the thought of having your nemesis fuck you in your own base helping you get off? If so I can certainly play that role.”

Lena squeezed her eyes shut, not being able to help her pelvis spasms. She wanted desperately to let go, but also didn’t want the older woman to think any part of this was acceptable.

Widowmaker reached down and slid Tracer’s legs apart, wedging a lithe thigh against the girl’s crotch. “It is a shame you are such a good girl, if Talon had had you, we’d have gotten to this much sooner.”

The smaller woman bucked impulsively against the new contact, cursing herself inwardly for not attempting to diffuse the situation. “I’m surprised you wanted me even then, Love.”

The lips on her neck started sucking roughly at the pulse point below her jaw. “I felt nothing until now.”

Lena froze.

Widowmaker felt the girl beneath her tense up. She pulled back and turned to look around at the girls face. “Tracer?”

She spun the girl around and grabbed both sides of her face, tilting her head to the side, desperately looking for a response. The look of concern on the older woman’s features softened Tracers expression. Lena felt herself hugged gently against Widowmaker's chest.

“I went too far didn’t I?”

The younger girl blinked a few times before looking up. “You’re worried about me?”

Lena was pushed back, her shoulders gripped roughly at arm’s length from the other woman. “Of course! Did you think all this time I was considering going back to Talon?”

“I didn’t know what to think.”

Widowmaker sighed. “It has been so hard to talk to you since you avoid me when we are alone.”

“I was worried that I might be taking advantage of the situation.”

“That is my fault, it has been hard to be open about my emotions. They are so varying all the time, I do not know how you can deal with them.”

"You're doing great though, even Angela feels more comfortable around you."

Lena felt hands brushing the soft hair on her head. "Merci, Tracer. But either way, I am sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Lena smiled genuinely at her. “Neither of us is the best at communication it seems.”

Her companion laughed softly, “non,” And took another step back. "I also hope that this has not come between us?" The girl quickly shook her head no, then something occurred to Widowmaker- “Attendez… you let me do all that genuinely thinking it was not an act?”

Lena felt a full body blush break out.

“Cherie, perhaps you are more interesting than I thought.”

Her mouth flew open and she defensively grit out, “You were enjoying it more than I was!” Lena noticed Widowmakers eyes travel down to between her legs and the wetness there. "Oh piss off, ya wanker." She left the room, making loud stomping sounds as she disappeared.

"I will never understand the English," The taller woman laughed. 

 


End file.
